Rather than simply regurgitating their heroes, the classic songwriting at the heart of the tension ensures it's an instantly welcoming experience. [Feb 2026, p.101]

There's an abandoned sense of mischief and good times here that doesn't automatically come with overdosing on Rumours. [Oct 2025, p.133]

Songs that are just truly comforting to their core and that make Hallelujah Anyhow another richly rewarding listen.

The record doesn’t break any new ground, but it walks familiar paths with confidence.

Across the 28 tracks, never once does it seem Everett is playing for anyone but himself, avoiding potential cliché throughout.

An eccentric take on Please, Please, Please is maybe surplus to requirements, but the rest is lean and lithe.

These ruminations on love form what could be described as a grownup concept album, with the Norwegian singer using all her experience and expertise wisely and reassuringly. [Sep 2024, p.133]

Although recorded with different producers in Mexico and Nashville, you can't hear the joins on Bridges' warm embraces. [Dec 2024, p.106]

The result is a vibrant wall of sound veering between the fierce and hauntingly sensitive.

The flipside of all the editorial freedom is that rather too much of the album is made up of endless midtempo guitar chug, which can feel like a bit of a chore after a while.

At one end of the spectrum that means Snorri Helgason is sparsely faithful to the gentle Misty Roses, while The Phoenix Foundation imbue Don’t Make Promises with post-psych otherworldliness.

Considered and ambitious, Tincian fittingly sounds like it comes from no time at all.

Trouble & Love is perhaps her most thoughtprovoking set since 2005’s Mercy Now, full of literate musings and believable characters.

A surprisingly natural addition to the band’s discography--and a thoroughly enjoyable one.

Rewarding, yet keep it familiar at the same time.

Though pieced together on a shoestring with Aves playing most of the instruments, it’s a charmingly idiosyncratic, roots-flavoured record.

Comparisons to Cream and early Black Sabbath are not ill-founded, but perhaps a little misleading. The trio’s “rock” aesthetic is made satisfyingly supple by the deft, jazz-borne drumming of Andreas Werliin, and bassist Johan Berthling spins some quite doomy webs, but the overall impression is of something quite apart from these two sets of forebears.

Mind Hive is especially groundbreaking. In fact, several of its best tracks (the restless, motorik drive of Cactused and the jagged, staccato bursts of the menacing, 154-ish Be Like Them) quite openly flirt with familiarity. Yet, as always seems to be the case with this crew, these tunes are invested with enviable reserves of contemporary energy which ensure they’re served up fresh and minus the merest hint of parody.

This is not an overly confessional collection: if you’re looking for self-revelation, you may have to wait for a forthcoming autobiography, but nevertheless there’s much to enjoy.

This is breathless in its intensity, an hour-long triumph up there with anything they’ve ever done, tales of the world today united amid the brooding shadows of a Victorian musical hall stage. That’s life, that’s madness… and it truly is the Madness we know and love.

James sound like a band bursting with life here. [Apr 2024, p.105]

Meshell Ndegeocello contributes electric bass and vocals on the track Maxim. [Nov 2025, p.92]

Spira finds Arnalds' talent revivified, blooming to earthy, dreamy and transporting effect. [Christmas 2025, p.132]

Never superfluous, always essential. [Apr 2026, p.109]

With its cinematic strings and glacial synth arrangements, Rise is certainly rife with theatricality--but rather than play-acting at the role of singer, Gainsbourg’s patchwork embeds the answers to those questions, and many more, deep within.

Ray Davies’ dreams and reality combine to make Americana an absorbing listen. Just touching an hour in length, it is as curious and rewarding as anything he has ever done.

More of the same then, maybe, but if it sounds this rich, just keep ’em coming Charles. Dues paid.

It’s a witty, endlessly creative look at where we are, where music is right now and what’s next; it all makes for essential listening.